Sparring Partners
by Gennai's Acolyte
Summary: Mukuro Ikusaba was never very good at making friends, but maybe she just hasn't met anyone who speaks her language. Non Despair AU. Please review.


AN: Like my first Danganronpa story, this was inspired by a scene in Danganronpa 3: Side Despair, namely the fight between Peko and Mukuro (which I was super excited about by the way). I decided that it would make sense for these two to have a connection, given the fact that their experiences are somewhat similar, and distinctly different from those of the other students at Hope's Peak. So, I hope that I've done this story, and the characters, justice here. This hasn't really gone through any major editing, so feel free to point out any mistakes so that I can fix them as soon as possible.

On another note, I think I have enough material in mind that I'm going to go ahead and merge all of my Danganronpa stories, unless otherwise noted, into a single, canon AU, so I may be referencing my other stories as I go along.

Finally, please leave a review to let me know what you think. I never seem to get enough of these, which is frustrating because it leaves me without knowledge of what to improve on next time. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

 **Sparring Partners**

With its blossoming cherry trees, ornate cobblestone walkways and traditional ornamentation, the Hope's Peach Academy dojo was truly a beautiful sight to behold. Housed in a small, separate structure on the campus of the new school building, the dojo was substantially larger than the one housed on the fifth floor of the old school, and this new space allowed a more expansive environment, including six cherry trees, ornamental boulders placed in various positions on the grass, and even a small artificial brook with a waterfall and a koi pond. Along with the carefully controlled temperature and artificial lighting inside the building, and the fact that so few students actually spent time here, the dojo gave off a calming aura of peace and serenity for anyone inside to enjoy.

Mukuro Ikusaba hated it. The Ultimate Soldier had become accustomed to an environment of violence and chaos, with enemies everywhere, and where a single mistake could cost your life. She was used to the constant cacophony of explosions and screams in her ears, the sting of smoke in her eyes, the smell of blood and burnt flesh, the chill of biting, frigid wind as it howled around her, the discomfort of rubble under her bedroll, the dry feeling of her mouth and tensed nerves on edge, ready to spring into action in an instant. That was her world, the _real_ world: a chaotic and dangerous place where the only one that could truly be relied upon was yourself. This place, this dojo, made Mukuro distinctly uncomfortable with its artificial beauty, and its unnatural perfection and tranquility seemed to mock the reality of the outside world. Here, within the sheltered confines of Hope's Peak campus, this place stood as a lie, rejecting the harsh reality of pain and despair that abounded just beyond its grounds.

However, Mukuro really had no other choice than to come to this place. Within just a few days of her arrival at Hope's Peak Academy, she had developed an aching need to maintain her usual regimen. Hope's Peak had several facilities for exercise purposes, as several of its students had talents relating to athletics, but none of these could provide the relief that Mukuro needed. She had already swum laps in the pool, raced circuits around the track course in the gym, and used the strength training equipment in the locker room, but while these were useful for maintaining her body's physical condition, she needed practical combat training to satisfy her desires.

Sakura Oogami, the Ultimate Martial Artist, had seen her working out on several occasions and offered to spar with her, and despite her reluctance to interact with her classmates, she had accepted, hoping that it would satisfy her need to fight. The bouts had certainly been useful and illuminating; the two fighters were almost evenly matched, but Mukuro still felt deeply unsatisfied. There was nothing at stake when they fought, and she could tell that Sakura was holding back, restraining herself and not unleashing her full potential. Mukuro suspected that, no matter how much she trained, or how well she maintained her body's physique, she would never be able to defeat Sakura, or even be her equal, in hand-to-hand combat. That fact, plus the near constant presence of Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimmer, who rarely left Sakura's side, was enough to convince Mukuro to look elsewhere, and she'd been avoiding the two as best she could.

Mukuro had never been particularly good with people. She and her sister had been abandoned at an early age, and she'd learned the hard way that people could be ruthless and cruel. Even when she'd served in Fenrir, while the other members of the mercenary band would huddle together in camp, drinking and telling stories and jokes, she would always remain off on her own, preparing herself for her next fight. That attitude had continued on here at Hope's Peak, where she found herself unable to unwilling to interact with her peers. She still wasn't certain why Junko had convinced the school's talent scouts that she should be admitted or worked so hard to persuade her to attend the school with her. Her place was on the battlefield, to fight alone and, eventually, to die alone. But Junko was the one person that was close to her, and since she could never properly make it up to her for leaving her alone to join Fenrir, it was the least she could do to conform to Junko's wishes. However, just because she was a student didn't mean that she had to interact with the others any more than necessary.

Thus, her search for a new place to train in solitude had eventually led her here, as she'd discovered the dojo on accident one day. Despite how uncomfortable its ambiance made her feel, she had to admit that it was almost the perfect place for her to train. There was plenty of space, and the room was equipped with training dummies for anyone who wanted to practice physical combat. Plus, it seemed that few students even knew that the dojo existed, and even fewer actually visited it. Most students preferred to spend their time honing their talents and had little use for the dojo. With this in mind, Mukuro had obtained a set of wooden replica knives, nearly the same size and weight as what she was used to, but far less deadly.

For a moment, she stared regretfully at the series of targets arrayed on the far wall, presumably for anyone who wanted to practice archery. She desperately wished that she could have a firearm to practice with, but she'd been unable to even get her combat rifle and pistol into the country, much less onto the campus itself. Perhaps her sister, Junko, could manage to smuggle some weapons in. She always seemed to be able to pull strings in order to cause mischief, but Junko seemed to be keeping her at arm's length ever since they began attending school at Hope's Peak, and even if she were able to get the weapons, it would take some time for them to arrive.

So, for the moment Mukuro would have to make do with practicing her bladework with combat knives. She pulled one of the straw padded wooden practice dummies away from its storage place against one of the walls and set it up roughly in the middle of the cobblestone courtyard. Bringing her knives up into a ready position, she took a deep breath, then moved into her strikes. She moved somewhat slowly at first, letting her body readjust to the feeling of going through the motions and patterns of her attacks, but quickly began to speed up as muscle memory began to take over. Nearly all of her focus was honed in on the dummy and her attacks, and the air around her almost seemed to chill in response to her icy focus. Imagined parries, dodges, and counterattacks floated through Mukuro's head as she varied her moves in response. In this moment, Mukuro had become almost a force of nature, her body moving on its own and acting on pure instinct as she wailed away at her target. The rest of the world seemed to slip away, leaving only Mukuro, her target, and the battle between them.

* * *

Peko Pekoyama, the Ultimate Swordswoman, was surprised to hear noise coming from within the dojo as she stood just outside. Even though, after more than a year, Ms. Yukizome, the homeroom teacher for her class, still required all of her students to show up to homeroom in the morning, though occasionally she would have to lead the class off on a field trip to retrieve one of her more willful students, she understood that the members of the 77th Class still needed time to themselves with which they could hone their talents in the ways best for them. Over the course of the last year, Peko had discovered the dojo on the 5th floor of the old building and had quickly determined that it was the best place for her to spend her free time, at least whenever she wasn't watching over her young master, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, the Ultimate Yakuza. And, even after an entire school year with the other members of Class 77, Fuyuhiko still hadn't disclosed to the others the true nature of he and Peko's relationship, so she had to try and keep her distance as best as possible and continue acting like they were merely classmates, as he had instructed her to do.

The old dojo, and now this newer one, allowed Peko the perfect space for contemplation, with the calming setting under the cherry blossoms and the quiet sound of water flowing through the brook and over the waterfall. Other students rarely disturbed her here, as the dojo remained ignored by the majority of the Hope's Peak populace, which gave her the rare and treasured opportunity to clear her mind and focus herself in order to devote her mental and physical energy more fully afterwards. Even better, the dojo contained an assortment of training dummies for students to strike at with fists or weapons, giving her the opportunity to keep her swordsmanship in top form.

The fact that someone else was utilizing the dojo for once surprised Peko, but it didn't bother her much. Others were free to do as they wished, and she could still make use of the dojo's atmosphere to meditate and center herself until the other student left, then proceed with her sword training. Quietly opening the door, Peko slipped inside silently, trying to make her presence known as little as possible. She intended to slip to the side of the room, in the shadows where she would remain unseen, but the sight that greeted her upon her entry caused her to pause and watch.

Near the center of the room, a black-haired girl whirled away at one of the training dummies like a tornado. It looked like she was wielding knives, or at least imitations of knives, and her assaults were so ferocious that they were nothing like anything Peko had seen at Hope's Peak. Even her classmates with more athletic oriented talents, particularly Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast and Nekomaru Nidai, the Ultimate Team Manager, both of whome engaged in regular and destructive sparring matches with each other, didn't fight like this girl was fighting. The intensity of her movements was something that Peko had only seen in people who fought because their lives were on the line. That single-minded focus, the utter lack of restraint or hesitation, was unique to those for whom death was an ever-present threat.

Peko considered for a moment, then decided that she wanted to know more about this woman, someone who displayed an attitude that she hadn't seen anywhere else in Hope's Peak in more than the year that she had spent on its campus. However, she understood how important training like this was, so she would wait until the girl finished her assault before approaching. For now, she would simply wait in the shadows and watch.

* * *

Out of the corner of her eye, Mukuro saw the slightest bit of movement indicating that someone else had entered the dojo. To most people, the newcomer's entrance would have gone unnoticed, but years of deadly combat had improved Mukuro's already impressive senses. They, along with Mukuro's strong survival instincts had given her the distinction of never sustaining a single substantive wound or injury despite her many fierce battles. The arrival of another student or one of the faculty was annoying, but Mukuro sought to put it from her mind after determining that they were making no move to attack her and were instead content merely to observe. She had spent too much time looking for a suitable place to let loose, and she was certainly not going to let anyone else cut her training session short.

Fueled by her irritation, her strikes become more and more brutal as she devastated the target dummy. Even though her blades were merely wood, the force behind the blows was enough to push the dummy to its limits. Like a raging hurricane, she stabbed, slashed and hacked at the object innumerable times, her movements seemingly a blur to all but the best trained eyes. Launching a savage kick, she struck the dummy a final time, and it finally cracked, sending straw, fragments of wood, and bits of cloth drifting to the floor as its remnants collapsed. With her "target" down, Mukuro's battle focus slipped away, and she allowed her breathing to return to normal as she surveyed her handiwork. After a few short moments, her breathing and heartrate returned to their regular rhythm, and she slipped the training knives back into their sheathes before turning and walking towards the door.

As she moved towards the exit, her observer stepped out from the shadows, giving Mukuro a better look. It was a girl, either Mukuro's age or just slightly older, with silver hair that was tied into two large braids. Her red, steely, intensely focused eyes stared at Mukuro from behind a pair of glasses, leading Mukuro to suspect that she was being appraised just as much as she was appraising the other girl. The silver-haired girl wore a long case slung across her back, indicating that she was probably some kind of kendo practitioner or fencer; this was further supported by the fact that she was clearly in good physical shape. Mukuro's visual analysis and mental assessment of the stranger took less than a second, but she didn't really care too much. She'd come here to avoid having to deal with people, and so she continued walking, keen on leaving as quickly as possible.

However, the other woman clearly had different plans. "My name is Peko Pekoyama," she said, "I am the Ultimate Swordswoman from Class 77. I would like to know who you are." Ignoring the request, the soldier walked right past Peko, walking purposefully towards the exit from the dojo. Peko had suspected that this might be the result, but she had wanted to try asking politely at first. But, she would have her answer regardless; this girl spoke a different language, a language of power, and so that was how Peko would have to communicate with her. "Very well," she said in a subdued tone, drawing her bamboo shinai from its case, "the blade speaks more honestly than the tongue anyway."

Mukuro's danger senses kicked in, and she shifted to the side just in time, barely avoiding the wooden blade that came crashing down where her head had been less than a second before. Whipping her knives out, she slashed out in a counterattack, seeking to end the fight while her opponent was overextended and unable to bring her sword back to block. Her eyes widened slightly for just a moment as Peko spun around at lightning speed, using her sword case to deflect the strike, causing the knives to glance off harmlessly as she brought her sword back into an on-guard position, where it could attack or defend as she willed.

Rather than remain reactive, Mukuro took the initiative and launched a blinding flurry of strikes at Peko, trying to bypass the swordswoman's defenses through sheer number of blows. However, Peko maneuvered her blade artfully, blocking each strike before it hit her. If Mukuro had been using real knives, she was sure that they would have shredded the bamboo casing on Peko's weapon, but as it was they merely deflected off, sending jolts of force down the blade and Peko's arm each time they connected.

As Mukuro's assault relented, Peko launched another attack of her own, aiming for the side of Mukuro's head, but retaining complete control of her weapon so that it could be used to defend immediately after. The soldier ducked, then lashed out with her leg, trying to sweep Peko's legs out from under her. The silver-haired girl leapt gracefully into the air, then swept down and to the side with her sword to hit Mukuro was she was off balance. Unable to properly move out of the way, Mukuro instead rolled backwards, then immediately brought her knives up in an X to block Peko's follow up downward strike.

After that, the two separated, and began slowly circling each other, keeping their weapons in a ready position either to attack or block, but neither one prepared to make another move just yet. Their initial exchanges had revealed the skill of both combatants, so now they decided to bide their time and search for any sign of weakness, even a single slip that could provide an opening for an attack. Time seemed to slow down, and the icy atmosphere returned, emanating from both women as they coldly analyzed the flow of the battle.

The two had been circling in their standoff for several minutes when Peko's eyes flickered sideways for a fraction of a second. That was all the time that Mukuro needed for an opening, and she dove at Peko, launching into another series of strikes. This time though, Peko simply ran to the side, and Mukuro was able to notice what it was that the swordswoman had been looking at. As the two had squared off, they had moved closer and closer to the dojo's koi pond, which was surrounded by several large, decorative boulders. After scampering out of the way of Mukuro's attack, Peko agilely hopped onto one of the boulders before turning and facing the soldier once again.

From her new vantage point, Peko possessed a strong and clear advantage. The additional elevation provided by standing atop the boulder increased her blade's reach, which had already been greater than that of Mukuro's knives, and made it difficult, or nearly impossible to attack her without being struck by the sword first. Mukuro was impressed, and her curiosity about her opponent began to grow. She showed remarkable ingenuity and utilized the terrain of the battlefield masterfully. No simple fencer or kendo competitor, even an ultimate, would so casually utilize such unconventional means to gain an advantage in a fight.

Oddly enough, Mukuro found herself actually beginning to enjoy this fight, far more than she had liked her matches with Sakura, or even her unfettered devastation unleashed on the training dummy. This Peko wasn't pulling any punches, and any of her strikes would be injurious or fatal if they connected. Yet, Mukuro sensed no malice or hostility from her. She simply fought without restraint, without fear for either herself or for her opponent, respecting Mukuro's skill and trusting that she would be able to defend herself against any attack. To fight with such lack of personal restrictions or constraints wasn't something that just anyone could do. Only those who had been forced to fight with their lives on the line could force themselves to act in such a way. This girl had clearly been in real fights, not just controlled, regulated practice or training bouts.

However, considering that could wait for later. For now, Mukuro needed to develop a plan of attack to displace Peko from her position of advantage. A direct, personal attack would be foolhardy, so she'd have to try something a little less conventional. Flipping one of her knives, she threw it at Peko, aiming for her midsection. It flue straight and true, but Peko swatted the weapon away with her sword. However, with her weapon swung away to the side, she was unable to bring it back in time to ward off Mukuro, who had immediately aimed another flying kick at the swordswoman as soon as she had released her knife. Peko jumped off the boulder to avoid the hit but wasn't quite fast enough to avoid being clipped on the shin by Mukuro's boot. She winced for a brief moment before recovering and holding her weapon up and ready to strike, as Mukuro tucked and rolled, recovering her second knife and spinning back to face her adversary.

Continuing her momentum, Mukuro let loose another sequence of attacks, which cascaded down upon Peko. This time, Mukuro committed herself fully to the assault, not relenting as before, but rather continuously pressing her opponent in order to maintain the offensive and prevent Peko from initiating a counterattack. Her foe was injured, if only slightly, but it was the greatest advantage she'd been able to secure and so she intended to take full advantage of it. Peko was able to keep up perfectly though, and each stab, slash, and lunge were met with the blade of her shinai, preventing her from being injured any further.

The duel went on like this for a while, but after almost thirty-minutes of constant fighting, Mukuro could tell that Peko was tiring. Her skill was undeniable, but it was obvious that she wasn't used to fighting such protracted battles, as opposed to Mukuro, who'd been forced to fight for hours under the harshest of conditions. Readying herself for her final assault, she darted forward and brought her knives down in an X, knocking Peko's sword down, then quickly flipped her grip on the weapons and brought them upward, creating an X from the opposite direction and batting the shinai up into the air. Before Peko could recover, Mukuro stabbed her forcefully with her knife, aiming right for her stomach. However, at almost the last moment, Mukuro let the knife fall from her hand, ramming her fist into Peko's gut instead. The blow knocked the breath out of Peko, who doubled over and collapsed to the ground in pain. Seconds later, Mukuro fell down beside her, worn down by the intense duel.

After recovering for a few seconds, Peko reached around and withdrew a water bottle that she'd attached to her sword case. She took a few swigs, then passed the drink to Mukuro, who gratefully accepted it. She greedily downed a few gulps, soothing her parched throat and helping to steady her breathing, before passing it back to Peko. The two sat in silence for several moments, allowing their heartrates to calm after their strenuous fight. Mukuro gave Peko a hard look. "You've done this sort of thing before," she said, her statement made in an almost accusatory tone, "You've seen real combat, not just some kind of competition."

"So have you," Peko retorted.

Mukuro considered for a moment, but she'd decided that she should at least give Peko a chance after she had fought so well. "Mukuro Ikusaba," she said, "You asked me what my name was. It's Mukuro Ikusaba. I'm the Ultimate Soldier from Class 78."

Peko nodded, "I guess that explains where you got your skills from. In all my years as a swordswoman, I've never seen anyone fight as ferociously and skillfully as you. As far as I know, we're the only students here at Hope's Peak who have actually fought real battles, and when I saw you unleashing your frustration on that dummy, I just had to confirm for myself."

"And what about you then?" Mukuro asked, looking at Peko with her cold, stern eyes, "I don't believe that any simple swordswoman would have such substantive combat experience."

Peko was quiet for a while. She hadn't disclosed her true job to any of her classmates, though somehow Ms. Yukizome had discovered the truth, so telling Mukuro, this girl whom she had just met and knew little to nothing about, seemed unthinkable. But, despite the irrationality of it, Peko felt sure that she could trust Mukuro with this. Battle revealed a person's true character, and Peko felt that Mukuro, while cold and deeply cynical, also lacked guile and seemed honest and trustworthy. "I was raised by the Kuzuryu Clan to be hitman, assassin, and bodyguard to the family's heir," she explained, "I was given a sword while still in my cradle, and from the very moment that I could hold it I have been trained in its use. My duty has required me to kill any who have threatened my young master, and even to hunt down potential threats or rivals before they can act."

Mukuro considered this for a moment. Her life had been hard, certainly, but at least she'd been able to choose her own path. Peko's fate had been determined almost from birth, and she'd been made to fight for causes and reasons beyond her control. Out of everyone at this school, Peko was probably the only one who had any idea of what Mukuro's experiences had been like, who knew what it was like to kill and run the risk of being killed in turn. Such persons were not common, particularly at such a sheltered institution as this. Despite her hesitancy to reach out to anyone, Mukuro couldn't let this opportunity slip by.

"Peko," she stated, "would you spar with me again in the future? I believe that this would work to both of our advantages and allow us to keep our skills maintained better than if we simply trained alone."

The swordsman did not smile, but her face softened upon hearing the proposal, seeing the masked offer of friendship within the words, a friendship that could only exist between warriors such as themselves. With a nod, she replied to Mukuro, "It would be my pleasure."


End file.
